Chronicles Of Aronshae (3 Book Omnibus)

by J. K. Barber

  Jared smiled but responded a bit more seriously. “You are smarter than you give yourself credit for, Sasha. A swordswoman like you has to have a quick mind for strategy, to recognize and push an advantage, or to know when to retreat. I have witnessed you manage all of these things.”

  “Okay now you really are just trying to flatter me,” Sasha chuckled. Jared looked a bit taken aback for a breath but then smiled warmly. He quickly changed the topic.

  “Sasha, what of the town itself? Was Snowhaven a caring community?”

  “Yes and no. The locals looked after each other very much, but outsiders were regarded with suspicion. Unless you were a merchant, most times the town guards wouldn’t even let you in if you were a stranger,” she replied shrugging. “I realize now that we may have been a bit harsh.”

  “Why so untrusting of outsiders? I mean I do remember our first meeting,” Jared laughed happily now. “A dagger to the throat is not really the politest way to greet someone.”

  Sasha returned his bright grin but shrugged again. “Snowhaven is a border town; most of our visitors are ice orcs. We are a community built with the sole purpose to constantly defend Illyander’s northern border. Should we fail in that endeavor… well you have heard the news and are very much familiar with our current mission. We are overrun now by forces from the Frozen March. Had we held the town, maybe not have been so trustworthy of strangers possibly scoping out our defenses, the border would still be intact. Perhaps we were not strict enough.”

  “Do you think there were spies?” Jared asked with a whisper, leaning in.

  “I don’t know what to think,” Sasha replied with a small sigh. “It is easy to blame others for your own failure.”

  “From what I heard of the battles that occurred in Snowhaven, you and your town did the best they could. You should be proud you held off a thousand orcs for as long as you did.”

  “I just don’t know, Jared. I wish I could feel as you say, but my heart still aches for the loss of my home. I keep thinking I could have done more.”

  Sasha fell silent and Jared couldn’t think of anything else to say without further darkening the mood or changing the topic to his muddy past. Sasha yawned. It caught, and Jared yawned too. They chuckled together.

  “Well, it is late. I think I’ll head to bed. Katya has probably calmed down and will more keenly feel the growling from her gut. I’ll take her dinner to her. Good night, Jared. Rest well.” The redhead stood, brushing her loose braid behind her and picking up Katya’s dish.

  Jared stood. “Good night,” he said, as she walked out of the galley towards her room. The woodsman thought about heading to his bunk, but he could not bring himself to move from where he stood. He knew his troubled thoughts would keep him from sleep for a time. Despite the icy chill outside that grew colder every day now, the woodsman headed up a steep set of stairs in the middle of the galley to the upper deck for some air.

  Branden stretched as best he could in his saddle, the grey gelding beneath him continuing its inexorable path north. The best two things he could say about his trip with the King were that the travel had been fast and uneventful. Other than those points, the rest of the path north had been an emotionally laden journey of quiet conflict for the smith. The King’s Guard had been fighting an internal battle since he had seen his two daughters off at the dock in Aeirsga.

  It seemed like a lifetime ago, but in fact it had only been the better part of two months since the King’s Army had left the capital and made its way to the Tradestar to join General Cewin Frey and his men. Even Frey would be surprised at the speed at which the army had traveled. Normally, such a journey would have taken half again as much time, maybe double. However, Captain Veldrun had run an efficient and organized march. Arranging for extra rations for the men and horses as well as allowing rotating shifts of men to rest aboard the supply wagons as they had traveled north, the Captain of the King’s Guard had managed to march his men up to ten hours a day without any serious incident. True, a few men had had to spend a day resting on a wagon, exhausted, instead of marching; still the time that the King had gained could be measured in weeks. Every man and woman that marched with Veldrun had been promised three days of rest once they reached the Tradestar, a welcome trade for the time that had been cut from the journey. Sadly, they had lost a few horses along the way; however these losses had soon been recouped from villages the King’s Army had passed. The Illyanders were all too happy to supply the King and his men with whatever they needed, and Veldrun had assigned Branden the task of making sure that every citizen was well compensated for their donation to the King’s cause. The former smith had a good eye for the worth of the goods being purchased and Veldrun knew it. Additionally, the Captain trusted Branden to be generous while still being frugal with the King’s gold.

  Branden, in turn, had welcomed the interaction with the villages that they passed. The task of acquiring what the army needed and exchanging words with the villagers had been a welcome distraction to the struggle going on inside Branden’s head. Sasha and Katya had been on his mind constantly, and the King’s Guard had had to fight against his paternal instinct to turn his horse around and ride to Valshet to watch over them. He had given his word, again, to protect the king, and he knew that his girls understood the strength of that oath. Knowing, however, did not make the vacancy of their absence any fuller. Having a daughter of his own, King Morgan had been empathetic to Branden’s plight; however, both men understood that there were times when personal matters needed to be set aside for the greater good of Illyander. Branden sighed heavily, eliciting a concerned word from Brother Talas.

  “Still troubled, Branden?” the older man asked. The King’s Guard turned to face the newly re-anointed priest. Though they had traveled together for only a short time before the attack on Aeirsga, Branden thought of Talas as a kindred spirit. Both men had left behind lives of service, only to be pulled back by a higher power. And while Branden had left the King’s Guard to create a life with Dara, his now deceased wife, Branden had surmised that Talas had left the Temple of the Great Mother because of a loss of his own. One man had started a new life because of the promise of love and family while the other seemed to have fled to another life in an attempt to forget a promise unfulfilled. When cleaning up at night, the blacksmith had noticed a second necklace resting on the priest’s chest beside his symbol of the Great Mother, a simple chain threaded through a silver ring. Branden couldn’t help but look at Talas with sympathetic eyes.

  “No more so than when we left, Brother Talas,” Branden replied, clapping his massive hand on the priest’s shoulder. Talas had ridden up beside the former smith without Branden noticing. The King’s Guard admonished himself inwardly. Stay vigilant Branden. If you can’t pay attention enough to notice when Talas rides right up to you, how are you supposed to protect the king from the Ice Queen’s Shadow Walkers. He needed to settle the unrest in his head and heart else he would be useless to the King, and he knew it. He had raised his daughters to be able to take care of themselves, but there was no way he could have prepared them for what lay ahead. No one could have, even had there been some sort of warning that the Ice Queen would rise again. Branden was full of worry, for his daughters as well as his king.

  Under normal circumstances, King Morgan couldn’t be better protected. There were a thousand men marching north with the monarch to join General Frey’s legion of equal number at the Tradestar. There were two hundred mounted knights, riding four abreast, as many as the road would allow. However, as the army neared the villages and towns along the way, the road would broaden to twice its normal width, allowing the cavalry to present an impressive face to those villagers who paused in their daily routine to watch the army pass. Furthermore, eight hundred infantry plodded along behind the dozen supply wagons that made up the middle of the huge column of men as they moved to face the Empress of Ice’s forces. It was the largest single collection of soldiers Branden had seen in his life and its passing was impo
ssible to miss. On more than one occasion, after having concluded his business with the towns they passed and compensated the villagers for their contribution to the army, Branden had ridden to catch up and marveled at the mark the army had made in its passing. The roadway had been torn up by metal-shod hooves, thick wagon wheels, and the boots of forty score men to the point that it looked as though a natural disaster of some kind had struck the road. Whole fields of wild grass had been clipped short by the hungry mouths of close to two hundred and fifty horses when the army had stopped for the evening. Even the resting of the army had left its mark. Small forests of trees had been cut down to create makeshift fortifications around the camp, not to mention the jacks that had been dug and filled in to deal with the waste of a thousand men. As the King’s Army marched north its impact on the landscape was distinct and wide reaching.

  “It’s only natural,” Talas said, bringing Branden’s thoughts back to the present. “You were a King’s Guard before you were ever a father, but the duties of a parent can never truly be laid aside.” Branden noted a touch of sadness in the way Talas spoke of parenthood, but the smith decided not to press. Every man dealt with grief in his own way and his own time. Branden thought of his own loss and whispered a small prayer to the Great Mother that he and Dara would once again meet in their next lives.

  Now it was Talas’ turn to put his hand on the smith’s massive shoulder. “So mote it be,” he intoned, clutching briefly at the unadorned metal disk that hung from a chain around his neck and bowing his head.

  But, it was not only worry for his daughters that furrowed the large smith’s brow. He had sworn an oath to speak no word which was not truth, when he became a King’s Guard and he had kept his oath. However, he was skirting the border of breaking his oath when it came to the Nhyme and deep down he knew it. Though he had never been asked directly about the diminutive forest dwellers, there were certain details about his journey to Aeirsga and the fight in the catacombs beneath that he had left out. Should he be asked, Branden was honor bound by the Second Oath to serve the King’s command without question in all things. On the other hand, he had given his word to the Nhyme as well that he would reveal their existence to no one. Should he break his word he would also be breaking the vow he had taken prohibiting him from lying. He hoped he would never be put in such a situation where the Third Oath of being a King’s Guard came into conflict with the second, but he was not fool enough to not plan for such an occurrence. So, while worrying about the lives of his daughters, Branden also had to concern himself about how not to break his solemn vows to the King and Kingdom of Illyander. The smith was suddenly thankful that a Priest of the Great Mother had chosen to ride beside him.

  Branden lowered his voice to speak to Talas. “I do worry about them, it’s true. But I know they’re perfectly capable.” Somehow, it felt natural speaking to Talas about his worries, though Branden had always been a stoic person. With his wife gone the smith had needed someone to speak with for some time, and Talas appeared both willing and able to lend a sympathetic ear. “Besides, Mala is with them… and Jared.” Branden had added the hunter’s name as an afterthought, but as he considered it more, he realized that he did trust the man. Jared had fought bravely in the catacombs beneath Aeirsga and, even before that, Sasha had said the woodsman had been willing to place himself in harm’s way to protect her. For any man, Jared had proven himself to be a stalwart ally, but the part of Branden that was a father couldn’t help but be concerned about the man showing a personal interest in his daughters.

  “As well as three score of the King’s best soldiers,” Talas added with a smile. “I have every confidence that Sasha and Katya will return unharmed.” There was a certainty to the priest’s tone from which Branden drew strength. “Now, what we need to make sure of is that they have a kingdom to return to.” Talas inclined his head towards King Morgan, riding a few horses ahead. The monarch was dressed simply for travel, but there was an air to the man that all but shouted royalty. Even the man’s huge brown destrier seemed to know who sat on his back and trotted with an extra spring in his step.

  Branden took Talas’ meaning. “Don’t you worry, Talas,” the smith said, a comradely taunt to his voice. “I won’t forget why I am here.” Branden patted the hilt of the sword that hung from his saddle. His huge maul still hung on his back, but the blacksmith knew such a weapon was unwieldy from horseback. The sword, made by his own hand, would do in a pinch.

  “Nor will your daughters forget why they are where they are,” Talas said, his voice gentle and sage. “Trust in the Mother’s plan and how you raised your girls. Sasha and Katya will do the rest.”

  Branden was hard pressed to disagree with the wisdom of the priest’s words. The smith also couldn’t help but wonder how the man had left The Temple when he now seemed so at ease and at peace wearing the long forest green tabard of his position. Before he could think any more on the matter though, Branden saw Captain Veldrun motion for him from the front of the column of horses.

  “Duty calls,” Branden said. “I thank you for your kind words though.” The smith extended his hand.

  “Anytime,” Talas said, extending his hand as well, clasping the thick well-muscled forearm of the smith. “I am here should you wish to speak more in the future.” There was a tone to Talas’ words and look in his eye, as though he somehow knew there was more bothering Branden.

  “Perhaps I will,” the King’s Guard said, spurring his horse forward to catch up to Captain Veldrun.

  Talas had his horse step to the side of the road and stop, allowing the horses, wagons and men in the front vanguard of the King’s Army to pass him by. He nodded to several men as they passed, acknowledging their greetings, but none stopped to speak with him, nor did he wish it so. The priest-turned-mercenary-turned priest was lost to his own thoughts of family and to the fight which awaited them in Snowhaven. Hopefully, both the battle to reclaim the town in the mountain pass and the battle to take the Ice Queen’s keep would see all his companions safe. The veteran soldier in Talas knew that such a thing was unlikely, however. He dismounted and began walking his horse beside the army, enjoying the summer sun and fields of gently swaying wheat around him.

  Captain Damon had announced at breakfast that they had reached the eastern coast of the Frozen March. They had been at sea for a little under a month, heading into freezing weather that got more intense every day. The traveling army and sailors alike had gawked at the giant chunks of ice floating by. While a few of the more experienced sailors had been this far north before with Damon, some were new and were amazed at the differences in sailing in freezing weather. It was only due to Damon’s excellent navigation that they had arrived in one piece. The news of their arrival had made everyone cheerful; the troops because they would have land under their feet again soon, and the crew because they would get to head south again and enjoy the summer’s warmth that was denied to this region.

  Katya stepped out onto the deck of The Isabella. Despite many layers of underclothes beneath her blue velvet robes, thick wolf-skin boots, and a heavy fur cloak with the hood pulled up, a shiver went up her spine. Never in her life had she felt cold this intense. She had looked at Mala oddly when the older woman had given her a thick wool scarf and told her to wrap it around her face so that only her eyes were visible. Now she understood why. The sorceress quickly followed the Master Swordswoman’s directions and wondered if she needed to worry about her eyes freezing. Bundled from head to toe, she walked across the deck to her companions whom she had been avoiding this last part of the voyage. She was sick of them all and their stupid opinions. She felt that they all hated her now after all that had been said. She did feel ashamed of her recent actions, but that was no reason for all of them to gang up on her. Great Mother forbid I make a mistake, she thought angrily but knew it was more pride than reason that was making her so mad about recent events. It was too late for an apology in her opinion from either side. They’d all just have to deal with her moody
silence. When she had rejoined her companions, Sasha went to wrap an arm around her sister. Katya brusquely shook off her arm and shot a menacing glare at the swordswoman. Sasha sighed and let her twin be.

  Jared was busy checking his various pouches and backpack to make sure he had everything. Mala was also likewise indisposed, supervising the crew bringing their supplies up from the lower deck. She meticulously made sure the crates were unloaded completely and then equally dispersed amongst the troops to carry. They had no pack animals or horses, knowing that it would be enough of a battle to keep themselves alive. Any livestock would quickly perish in such extreme weather. This would be a very long trek on foot, and each person was expected to carry their own water and a month of rations in addition to their gear. Katya thought of her father and how much she wished to be in warmer weather at his side in Illyander.

  Captain Damon had dropped anchor and now three score of fully armored troops were being loaded into longboats to be taken ashore. It was a time consuming process but was going faster than Katya had anticipated; the King’s Army was well trained and knew how to organize themselves efficiently. Katya made like she was adjusting her backpack but patted at Chyla and Niko through the thick hide of the bag. The two Nhyme had made a happy nest as chipmunks inside it using the sorceress’ possessions. They’d scouted earlier that morning to make sure their landing point was safe, but the Nhyme could only be airborne for a very short time before their bodies grew stiff with cold. The two were still inside and settled with bellies full of the cheese she’d slipped them at breakfast. That was one thought at least that made the sorceress smile for a brief instant.